


A Point System

by caffeinated_pens



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Presents, Fluff, Greg is Sweet, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinated_pens/pseuds/caffeinated_pens
Summary: I meant to post this on Christmas, but I got sick and basically slept the whole day.  *-ahem-* That's what the 'change pulblication date' option is for though, right? Right?! *coughs*





	A Point System

Greg smiled as he turned the gift over in his hands, holding it up to his ear and shaking it. “What is it?” He beamed excitedly.

“You would know if you opened it.”

“It’s more fun to guess.” He smirked, planting a kiss on Mycroft’s nose.

“Me telling you what it is is guessing now, is it?” The government official rolled his eyes and smiled.

“It’s worth the same amount of points because it means my charm and charisma were too strong for you to resist telling.”

“There’s a point system now?” He grinned.

“Yes, and me correctly guessing that this is a bunch of CDs and that there is a new watch in that box over there is worth approximately twenty-one million points. Better catch up, love.”

“Mmm. The best man shall win. Now, open it.” Without having to be told twice, he tore into the wrapping and began inspecting his gift. It was a large collection of CDs by his favorite bands.

“I was right!” He grabbed Mycroft by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a kiss. “Now, I will open what is definitely a watch, then, you open your present last.” Mycroft’s Christmas present was an enormous box in the corner, wrapped tightly with a bow stuck on top. The ginger nodded again and pulled Lestrade in for another kiss.

“Now go open your definitely-not-a-watch.”

It was a watch. “Now Myc, your present.”

“Do not call me Myc. The only person who calls me Myc is Mary. I’ve learned to stop trying to make her cut it out.” He smiled warmly, sitting on his boyfriend’s lap.

“Not Sherlock?” he teased.

“Not Sherlock. Though, he did call me Mycie when he was younger, and still does when he’s high.”

Greg chuckled. “Present, love.” Mycroft nodded happily and went over to unwrap it.

“Gregory… This is... a box.” He had opened the box to find yet another box. He then opened that box, finding a box again. This repeated a few more times. “Gregory!” he exclaimed, starting to get aggravated.

“Keep going, sweetheart.” Mycroft sighed and opened the next box. And the next, and the next…

“Gregory, this is getting ridiculous!”

“Just a few more,” Greg smiled, “I believe in you, honey.”

“Why, Gregory?!” he moaned, sitting around an ever growing pile of wrapping paper and boxes.

“Hey.” The DI wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “You're at the last one.” Mycroft tore away the paper frustratedly. He eyed Greg with a confused look upon finding a leather bound notebook. Lestrade smiled proudly and gestured for him to open it. He did so and was rendered speechless at the sight of the first page: ‘Reasons I Love You, by Gregory Lestrade.’

He turned the pages carefully, reading the reasons listed on each line. “D-Did you fill this entire book?”

“Sort of,” he hummed, hugging him close. “Keep reading.” He flipped through the book and stared at the lines, tears forming in his eyes. Lestrade hummed softly as Mycroft turned to a page nearly half way through, with only one thing written: ‘Hopefully, you’ll say yes.’

“Gregory, what is this?” He looked up, a small grin spreading across his face despite his growing levels of anxiety.

“Turn the page.” He cocked his head lovably and smiled. Mycroft obeyed. The rest of the notebook had been hollowed out. Inside was a small box.

“G-Gregory?”

“Will you?”

“Will I what?” He grinned, tears streaming down his face, wanting to hear him say it.

“Marry me. Be mine forever, let me call you my husband, let me hold you and take care of you on all of your bad days, let me wake up every day knowing I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you?”

He nodded vigorously, for once, he was at loss for words. He chose instead to turn around suddenly and pull the other man into a deep kiss. Greg returned the act eagerly, before breaking away to take the ring from the box and slip it onto his future husband’s finger. “Happy holiday, Mycroft.”

“Happy holiday, Gregory.”

“Happy indeed.”


End file.
